Outlast: Survival
by ghostchickie
Summary: Dr. Roland, a bright young medical examiner has been working as a consulting coroner and doctor for Murkoff. Specifically for Project Wallrider at Mount Massive Asylum. When the Wallrider is unexpectedly released in the asylum and chaos ensures. Can Dr. Roland make it out alive. (Mainly follows the events of Whistleblower and some changes from last publish)
1. Dr Jennifer Roland

It was a rarity nowadays at Mount Massive Asylum, an asylum mainly for the criminally insane, to hear the echoing sound of click clacking of heels in the halls leading to the Morphogenic Engine. Because of "Project: Walrider's" fatal side effects on the female patients and staff, they were transferred to another facility. Women weren't allowed on the premises, save for a few who had special access for a limited time per day to keep exposure limited. Very few of them knew about the experiments with the Morphogenic Engine, let alone would get anywhere close to the engine. Save for one woman, Dr. Jennifer Roland.

A hissing sound filled the air as the large steel and glass doors to one of the autopsy rooms opened up, allowing the curvaceous, tall, prim and proper ebony haired woman enter. She scanned the room with her bright cerulean eyes, examining the white sheet that was draped over yet another victim to the morphogenic engine. She was a young beauty and just 23 years of age, but most were quick to learn not to underestimate her because of her young age or beauty but to admire her for her high intelligence. A child genius that graduated from the university top of her class and had her first Master's Degree by the age of 16, she delved into medical examinations and has been in the forefront of anatomical research, recently in hormonal therapies. Her advances in those fields was the reason Jeremy Blaire personally hired her onto the project as a consulting contract. The machine didn't seem to affect Dr. Roland so she was basically there round the clock either performing autopsies or examining the patients who had just been through the morphogenic engine experiment. Truth be told, it really was starting to get to her and she had made numerous requests for leave, yet she never got a response.

She sighed deeply, rubbing her temple with her left hand to relieve an oncoming tension headache and drinking the last sip of her energy drink, that nowadays didn't do jack for her energy, before she put on her latex gloves and her surgical mask. The Murkoff security had barged into her room while she was taking a nap and forced her to come down there immediately to do the autopsy on the patient. Grabbing a voice recorder from her lab coat pocket, she flipped the recorder on and began to record.

"Date is September 12, 2013. Approximately 7:30 pm. This is the preliminary autopsy for patient number: 921," she began to read out loud from the case file left on her desk for this patient, "According to case file, patient is male, Caucasian, height: 6'1, and weight: 250. Will remeasure height and weight of patient in procedure with Murkoff protocol. Time of death, according to onsite report filed by the orderlies and Murkoff security, was approximately 7:15 pm September 12, 2013. Patient 921 had just ending testing of hormone stage 3 in the morphogenic engine when he used an unexpected strength to get out of the hold of the orderlies. Patient began to charge at Murkoff staff in the engine room thus security began use of tranquilizers via tranquilizer guns. When that had not worked and only increased the manic episode, Murkoff security was forced to use lethal force and shot patient 921 multiple times."

Dr. Roland then laid the voice recorder down upon her table of tools that stood next to the examination slab, took her hand and lifted the white sheet up and off to the end of the slab so she could begin her medical examination. She looked down at the large man on the slab. Tumors and lesions riddled the man's body as she had seen with other patients, a sign that their bodies were not accepting the therapy. "Superficial examination of the body show numerous of tumors, ranging from 1inch in diameter to 9 inches in diameter, on the body. Along with many lesions that seem to be caused from a necrotizing facilitis. Similar to the many of the other patients who have been through the morphogenic engine therapy. Will need to take samples to examine any changes in the cellular level. Patient also has 13 gunshot entry wounds to the front of the body; 2 in the right arm, 3 in the left arm, 5 in the upper abdomen, and three in the cranium. Will need to flip over patient to check for exit wounds. Cannot do at this time as my medical assistant has not yet arrived."

The woman, showing slight exhaustion sat down in her rolling chair, still talking aloud, but more freely as she had before, "This is my fourteenth autopsy of a patient in the Walrider experiment. Honestly, I'm not sure why we have so much hope in this senile nazi's far-fetched theories when we could be using a much simpler mechanical engine based on major sperm protein," she took in another deep sigh, shaking her head slowly. She really needed a vacation from this place," After examining toxicology report, I will probably recommend harsher chemical restraints for the safety of the patients and staff. The restraints appear not to be chemically interacting well with the hormone therapy as we continue Project Walrider. Actually it seems to be causing a counterproductive effect on the patient."

Finally, as Jennifer had finished talking, her assistant had come in to help her move the body for the examination. Lifting the body and rolling it over so the patient was laying on his stomach, she took into account by writing in her notes and drawing pictures the exit wounds and more of the tumors and lesions that riddled the backside of him. Rolling him back over to be laying on his back she continued with her autopsy. Dr. Roland opened the patient's body open with a large Y incision and taking a bone saw to the ribs and sternum as well as the cranium, she examined and took samples of each of the organs, the tumors, and lesions on the body to take a closer look at them on the molecular level. She also drew blood from the patient to run a toxicology report. When she had finished running the tests and felt satisfied with her examination of the body, she took her final notes down so later on she could type up her report for the executives.

Opening her mouth widely, she yawned loudly. Her assistant had already left after all the heavy lifting had been done. Looking up at the clock, she noticed the time was 11:45 pm. She had done all she could with the body so she was ready to go to bed again. Just as soon as she had laid the white sheet back over the body, a voice came over the intercom.

"Dr. Jennifer Roland, you are needed in the Morphogenic Engine Room immediately. Dr. Jennifer Roland, to the Morphogenic Engine Room," The tired woman sulked when she heard them paging her. They really had to page her when they more than likely knew she had just finished an autopsy? She groaned miserably but got up from her desk, throwing her surgical mask and bloody latex gloves in a small tantrum into the garbage can, where she was finishing up her report making her way. She exited the autopsy room but took her sweet ass time to get to the Morphogenic Engine Room out of spite.

"Ah, Jennifer you're just in time," Mr. Blaire, the head of Mount Massive Asylum, greeted her as she entered the laboratory that held the engine, she went over to the side by the door and hanging her lab coat on a hook and putting on a coverall suit over her gray pencil skirt dress she wore and surgical mask on as he continued to speak with her, "We just finished with Gluskin. Unfortunately, the therapy did not take so he's basically a dud." As he talked, the orderlies were pulling Gluskin out of the chamber, red blisters scarred his body making it peel in spots. His bloodshot eyes, though drowsy and half closed from the experiment looked over toward the scientists and doctors on the other side of the glass as he was being taken away. Although the experiments with Project Walrider were painful, as shown by the lesions and tumors a lot of patients had, Jennifer truly had no sympathy for most of the patients.

Most were criminally insane and did terrible things to people and were getting what they deserved in her book. Especially, Gluskin. After reading and seeing pictures of what he had done, she especially had no sympathy for him whatsoever. Troubled childhood or not. She hated when she used to have to do examinations on Gluskin. It seriously wanted to make her gag at all the bullshit charm he tried to use on her. She eventually got pulled off from having to examine Gluskin as they had to continue to use more and more restraints on him.

There were other patients that weren't as bad as Gluskin, some seemed pretty tame, like William "Billy" Hope, though odd, he never hurt anyone she was aware of and seemed pretty nice to her. She felt a little bad about Billy but...he did sign up for it or someone in their family signed him up for it and knew there could be consequences.

Jennifer huffed as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail before putting the hood over her hairline. She watched as yet another patient once again failed, being sent back to his padded cell. "I could have told you that, Mr. Blaire. The only person that I see fit is William Hope. Through my examinations, he's been doing remarkably well with the hormone therapy. He's our best match yet."

Blaire smirked, "And lo and behold that's who were testing next my dear." He turned around, him and Jennifer walked down to where the engine was, past the glass wall. There, they were bringing in patient 174 aka William "Billy" Hope. The orderlies didn't have to restrain or hold on to William as much as they would have the other patients. When he saw Jennifer he smiled at her, "Good evening Dr. Roland. You look tired but still lovely as ever…they're not working you too hard are they? Especially after the autopsy with patient 921."

Blaire gave Jennifer a slight glare as she looked flabbergasted. "Billy," she began, "What are you talking about?"

"I dreamt about you doing the autopsy for patient 921 before I came here, it's sad but you are very detailed and go above and beyond Murkoff protocol with us," He smiled a knowing smile while Jennifer's mouth was agape like a caught fish, "I also had a dream about my mother's lawsuit against Murkoff again, but she doesn't have to worry. All will be better soon."

Jennifer looked at him quizzically, wondering what he meant by it being better soon as the orderlies began to hook him up into the pod. When they had finished, Jennifer went up to the glass he was inside of and started talking to him in a calm soothing voice as she began the machines to give him an anesthetic and read his vital signs, "Alright Billy, just relax, everything will be fine."

Billy nodded as much as he could with all the tubing and wires that were protruding from everywhere imaginable in his body as the pod closed. Drugs to help him go into lucid dreaming as the pod filled with fluids. Once the pod was filled completely, the precursor molecules started to be injected into his blood stream. Cameras were put into the pod in every angle so that the doctors and scientists could monitor any change in his appearance or health. If he began to show growths or lesions on his body then that meant the nanite production process was failing. Jennifer watched carefully the readings on his vitals on a computer back behind the glass. Blaire watched as another scientist read aloud the percentage of the injection had been put into Billy's body.

"75 percent, 80 percent…"

"No visual or readings indicating rejection of the nanites on the cellular level," Blaire grinned from ear to ear, seeing a lot better progress with this patient compared to the others.

"85 percent…90 percent…95 percent, 97, 98…99…"

"Shit," one scientist cried out, "He's making a lateral ascension!"

The alarms started to set off, the sound of the morphogenic engine still going, however computers were shut down and the cameras to the engine were shut off. The lights then suddenly went out, save for the emergency lighting, leaving the majority of the asylum in darkness.

Confused, the scientists looked around the laboratory and at each other wondering what had gone wrong. None of them spoke.


	2. The Wallrider is released

WOOSH!

A scientist was lifted up in the air by what seemed to be nothing, being thrown around like a puny rag doll, the poor man screaming in terror. The others looked on, frozen in shock at what they were seeing, when suddenly the scientist just exploded into millions of little chunks, all splattering across the laboratory. A hazy black shape began to whip past the staff and everyone began to panic. A scientist pushed a panic button causing an alarm to be set off as they all ran to the exits. Members of the staff being picked off and being obliterated. Outside the laboratory, all hell had broken loose. The panic button had caused the asylum to go on lockdown. All exits to the outside had been locked off. Patients had broken out of their cells and started to riot and run amuck, some taking advantage of the situation and killing off security, doctors, scientists, and other patients.

Jennifer, not knowing what else to do, hid in a locker in one of the employee lounges still beneath the asylum in the laboratories. Hearing the blood curdling screams of her colleagues as lord knows what was being done to them outside of the lounge. Her breath ragged as she honestly was terrified for her life. How was she going to get out, or better yet, how the hell was she going to survive? She had to get help, somehow she was going to have to get to a phone or a radio and call for help. She knew there was no cell phone service out here in the middle of nowhere in Colorado. So she was going to have to find a landline or radio, but where?

Suddenly there was a noise at the door, a doctor and a security guard had run into the room that she was in, locking the door behind them.

"Ok," the security guard said grimly, "I think we're safe for now."

The doctor looked a bit more panicked as he paced back and forth rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh God…Jesus Christ, fuck man. What are we going to do? We gotta call for help? There's gotta be a way to call for help. Right? I mean we have to try and help the rest of us."

"No way…bad idea. We get out of here through reception and let Murkoff Tactical clean it up," The security guard responded.

The doctor looked stopped and looked at the security guard, still in a panic, "If they get here in time. We need help now. If get them on the radio, the National Guard could be here within…"

The security interrupted the doctor, ticked off, "We don't even know if the radio works,"

"It's short wave," the doctor pleaded, "if the prison's got electricity, then they've got signal. And the lights are on."

A radio in the prison. That would be perfect. However, Jennifer had no idea how to get to the prison from where she was. Honestly, she only knew how to get to the reception desk from where she was. There really was no need for her to go elsewhere in the asylum.

"Murkoff has it under control," They continued to argue.

"Yeah, I noticed. We need to get that radio."

The security guard looked pissed, he got into the doctor's face, basically growling at him, "Outside help doesn't come without outside attention. You want to take responsibility for every legally shaky thing you did on Murkoff company payroll? I know I don't."

He walked off and headed to another door, the doctor following him, still pleading with him, "It's too late to worry about that. This just has to stop."

The guard looking even more frustrated turned back around to face the doctor, "You're scared. You're not thinking straight," he glared at the doctor, "Let me make something clear. You try to radio outside for help, I'm gonna give you a whole new something to be scared of."

Flabbergasted, the doctor spat out, "Are you threatening me?"

Coldly, the guard replied bluntly, "Yes," He then made a motion to the doctor to follow him out of the room. Carefully and quietly, they headed out of a different door that would probably head in the direction of the reception area.

Jennifer stood there in the dark of the locker, contemplating what she was going to do. Should she do like the security guard and the doctor and head for the reception area in hopes of getting out, seeing as it was every man for himself. Or would she chance going and calling for help at the prison radio.


	3. Objective: Get to Prison

She sighed, her conscious wouldn't allow her to just leave without at least trying to call for help and possibly saving innocent lives. She bravely took in a deep breath and slowly and quietly as possible she opened the locker. Stepping out with her bare feet but her blue suit on, she had thrown her heels off as they were being chased by the haze of black and the patients, or as Blaire like to call them, Varients. She probably needed to take off the suit and her dress underneath the suit. If she was going to have to get to the prison and not get caught by something, she'd have to blend in…or at least not stick out like a blue colored sore thumb. Plus she'd definitely have to disguise herself from being a woman, lord knows what would happen if she happened to get caught and they found out she was a woman. She shook her head, not wanting to think about it.

She quickly scoured the other lockers looking and drawers, looking for anything that would work. Luckily, she found a pair of white pants and a large white shirt that patients would wear. They were large enough that they fit but not tight enough to show that she had any sort of womanly curves to her at all. There was at least one pair of extra clothes around in the employee lounges just in case a patient needed it or even an employee who got coffee on their suit. She took off the pencil skirt dress that she wore, keeping her bra and panties on, and put on the pants and shirt.

To keep them from seeing that she was a woman by her face, she first took some water and smeared off her makeup, then took an ash tray that was laying on the table and smeared the ash all over her face, arms, legs, and torso. And finally, she messed up her hair, raking it and tousling it with her fingers to give it a frizzed look that covered her face. Feeling that she did a decent enough job, she headed to the door. By the door was a map of the asylum, in case of an emergency you could use the map to find the fastest way out. She studied it carefully trying to use it to find her way to the prison so she could call for help. Once she had a good idea of how to get from here to there, she placed her hand on the door knob.

Slowly, the now frazzled looking woman opened the door. Peeking out and looking in both directions, trying to peer into the darkness to see if any movement could be spotted. Cautiously she made her way down the hallway, keeping one hand on the wall as she couldn't see well in the darkness yet, but made sure to listen quietly for any movements or sounds.

Eventually, she came to some more lighted areas of the underground part. Thankfully it seemed like most of the commotion had died down. Every so often, she have to hide as patients would run by chasing each other or some of the doctors. Some just walking around looking for their next prey, a lot of them already caked in a crimson stain. She felt terrible that she couldn't help somehow, but what could she do? That would be suicide. She continued onward.

Bodies were everywhere it seemed in some kind of mutilated manner. Some of them were people that she had known and worked with. She didn't know if she wanted to cry or vomit, but she couldn't do either if she wanted to stay alive. It was hard, but she had to be brave.

Jennifer had made it into the cafeteria area of the asylum. She saw as she inched her way through bodies hanging in the freezer, what looked to be pieces of body parts that had been chewed on or cut off. She definitely could see teeth marks on some. "What in the world could that be from, some kind of wild animal like a dog," she wondered. That's when she entered the kitchen.

"Oh. My. God…" she stammered, her hand covering her mouth and falling backwards in shock as she saw the horror in front of her. On the stove, in various pots of different sizes were human body parts. What kind of sick person would do such a thing?


	4. The Cannibal

As if on cue, Jennifer's question was answered with the sound of a saw blade whirring and the gurgling sound of flesh being cut and ripped into not too far away from her in the next room. Quietly she crawled into the next door, praying that she wasn't going to be seen and whoever had the saw wasn't in there. Unfortunately he was there, a shirtless, dirty, and extremely hairy pale patient. She could smell his B.O. several feet away. So nasty. Luckily, he seemed to be preoccupied devouring various body parts of his latest victim. To make sure she wasn't going to turn into dessert, she silently crawled her way underneath the tables and chairs to get to the door and away from the cannibalistic psychopath.

The poor woman had to crawl over and through so much blood and gore she was turning almost as pale white and as patients. If she was ever going to make it out here alive, undoubtingly she was turning into a vegetarian. The sight of something resembling meat would probably make her pass out.

"Just a couple more feet, c'mon Jennifer, you can do it," she rallied to herself in her head, crawling a little bit quicker at the homestretch. "Phew," she sighed quietly as she had a hand on the slightly ajar door. Quietly, she moved the door open just a tiny bit more, keeping her hand steady as to not make the door creak and alert the cannibal to her existence.

CRASH!

Jennifer cringed, a glass bottle had been placed meticulously on the top of the door and laying on the door frame. When Jennifer pulled the door open the bottle tipped over crashing to the floor with a large bang and scattering glass onto the floor. It was a trap. She whipped her head to the direction of the cannibal was. He had heard the crash and was staring straight at Jennifer, licking his bloody chapped lips as his eyes filled with hunger and desire. Clenching his handsaw, he turned to make his way toward his new found prey.

It didn't take long for Jennifer's fight or flight instincts to kick in as she leapt up off her hands and feet. She hopped over the broken glass booked it into the dark hallways. The buzzing of the cannibal's handsaw coming after her, he cried out, "Feed me! C'mere and feed me!"

The young woman ran as fast as she could, running blindly in the dark hallways whilst crashing into overturned chairs and desks that blocked the hallways. She continued to run til she found a light at the end of a narrow hallway. Gaining her second wind she bolted for the light, her breath shallow and shaky in fear of being caught. She ran as hard as she could and finally made it to the light at the end. Somehow, she had ended up inside of the morgue and more specifically the crematorium.

Out of fear and hearing the slight buzz of the saw still going, the woman bolted into a room. It was dark and she could barely see anything but the smell was awful in there. No telling what was in there, nor did she want to know. Trying to make out where she was, Jennifer reached out with her arms, moving them around her in hopes of getting a wall or maybe a locker. She continued this until she had felt something with her right hand. She turned and put both hands on the thing she felt. She gasped, her breathing becoming ragged in fear of what she was touching. It was dry and leather-like…skin and lots and lots of hair.

Oh god….oh god, oh god it moved! She squeaked as she pulled her hands back close to her body, stumbling backwards in fright.

There was silence and then after what seemed like forever to Jennifer, she heard a voice grumble out, "Dinner bell."

A sudden pain came from the back of Jennifer's head and she crumpled to the floor. A hand grasped a large chunk of her ebony hair and began to drag Jennifer out of the dark room and into the light of the crematorium.


	5. Dinner Bell

Jennifer awoke to a throbbing pain on the back of her head feeling dizzy and disorientated. Letting out a groan and with her eyes still closed she lifted her hand to her temple. Only, she couldn't. Eyes shot open as she found her arms were tied to what she was laying on.

"Oh no," she gasped as she looked around and found herself laying on a slide going into one of the crematorium's oven. She looked down toward her feet and found the cannibal patient was sitting on her thighs.

"Ah…good you're awake," he smiled a bloody grin as he leaned his body down onto Jennifer's, getting within inches of her face, "I like to watch my food cook while it's wriggling and writhing. Makes it taste so much better."

His breath was rancid, making poor Jennifer's stomach churn. She turned her face as she retched and coughed, trying her hardest not to vomit. Not seeming to really care about her reaction, the cannibal took this as an opportunity to move his face closer to the crook of her neck. His prickly beard that was covered in filth and blood brushed up against the skin of her neck as he inhaled her scent.

"Mmmmm…" he moaned in ecstasy as she cringed and tears began to roll down her face, "You smell sweet, like honey. Wonder if you taste as sweet as you smell." Opening his mouth, he stuck his tongue out and licked Jennifer's skin all the way up her neck and to the apples of her cheeks lapping up one of her salty tears. He shivered in pleasure enjoying the taste of her skin and tears.

"Noooooo," Disgusted, Jennifer shrieked and began to try to fight him off of her, moving her torso left to right and bucking her hips to try to push him off. She was able to slide one of her hands free and used it to grab him by the arm to pull him off balance. He fell with a grunt, landing on his head first giving Jennifer time to untie her other hand and make a run for it.

"Oh you lil motherfucker," the cannibal roared as he picked himself up and bolted towards her. Catching up with her, he grabbed her around the waist and arms, he hoisted her up off the ground. "I'm going to enjoy watching you cook and broil til you're extra crispy," he growled as she kicked and screamed for her life.

Grasping tightly around her, he walked back to the slide for the oven and forcibly slammed her down onto it. He kept her down by pushing down on her neck. She clawed at his hand, her breath getting hard to get as he pushed down harder. Losing consciousness, her vision started to get blurry but she was able to see his face inching toward her again.

"You're mine, bitch," he growled.

Out of the corner of Jennifer's eye, she spotted something. If she could just reach it, maybe, just maybe she'd have a chance. Looking at the cannibal straight in the eye with her cerulean ones glaring at him, she stated in a low tone of voice, "Burn in hell, you psychotic freak!"

She rammed her left hand up to the wall with all her might and pushed the button that let started the slide. Pulling them both in with an intense speed and stopping as quickly as it had started. The force of the stop threw the cannibal over Jennifer and deeper into the oven. Taking no time, she crawled as quickly as she could out of the already hot oven and slammed the oven door closed, locking it just in the nick of time.

The cannibal scream in a mixture of anger and pain as he pounded on the door, looking out of the small window at her as he began to be burnt alive, "No, nooo! You're mine! You're mine, you fucking bitch. Ah! Ahhh!"

Eventually the cries died down as he slowly cooked and charred, turning into a large pile of ash inside the oven. Jennifer's legs had become weak and like jello, she had stumbled down onto the floor of the crematorium. Her breathing becoming exaggerated as she sat there, realizing what she had just done. Tears began to flow down her cheeks once again as she began to sob, pulling her jello like legs up to her and letting the tears fall down. It wasn't necessarily that she was upset that she had killed him. He absolutely deserved it for what he was doing. It's just that she killed another human being when she's never even hurt a fly in her life. That's what she couldn't handle. She had to be strong though, she was justified in what she did. But it still didn't stop the tears from falling.

It was only after a few minutes that she heard some rustling somewhere in the distance that broke Jennifer of her crying spell. She had to move on. As upset as she was, she had to. If she didn't, more than likely she would be dead. Wiping away the tears from her eyes, she stood up and started back on her way to the prison.


	6. The Prison Part 1

After wandering around the morgue of the massive asylum, Jennifer finally found her way outside. Wrapping her arms around her sweat drenched torso, she began to shiver as she traversed into the foggy September night.

Groaning sadly, the poor woman wished she was soaking up the warm sunshine somewhere on a nice tropical beach sipping on a fruity drink in a coconut shell decked out with a fancy little umbrella. Really anywhere but where she was would be great, just as long as she was far, far away from this hell hole. It would be a little bit nicer if she at least had a coat on instead of these sorry excuses for clothes. Seriously, they were paper thin and served no use for keeping the wearer warm.

But, Jennifer was hell bent on getting to the prison and continued to march on quietly into the fog hoping that she was going in the right direction. Every so often she would see or hear patients running through the brush. Instinctively, she would duck and hide as best as she could in the thicket of bushes and trees. Luckily, it didn't seem like any of the patients noticed her presence or if they did they showed no interest in her. Which Jennifer had no issues with whatsoever.

For what seemed like hours, she finally made it to the inner gates of the massive prison. It was daunting to look at for sure. How in the world was she supposed to find one little short-waved radio in that? Especially with no idea what was lurking in the dark shadows waiting to pounce on unsuspecting victims. She had to try. Taking in a deep breath and exhaling it out Jennifer creeped into the prison gates.

The place that she had entered seemed to be the prison yard for the inmates. Bodies were strewn in bits and pieces pretty much in every corner of the place. Everywhere you looked there was at least a blood stain. Some bodies were even hung up on the fence like they were some kind of Christmas decoration. Swarms of flies, beetles, and insects crawled over and into the remains, feasting and laying their young on the putrid decomposing flesh. The smell alone was enough to make the poor woman feel the bile in her stomach rise up and tickle the back of her mouth.

Jennifer continued to walk through the labyrinth of fencing and gates when she suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and the feeling of eyes watching her came over her. She stopped to peer into the dense fog but couldn't see anyone. Yet the feeling wasn't going away, there was someone or something out there.

"Who's this," a deep and curious yet calm voice questioned from the other side of the fencing. A colossal sized man who was about as naked as a jay bird strolled up to the fence, carrying with him a large machete like weapon in his hand. He looked down through the fence, examining the much smaller stature of Jennifer. Not expecting the man at all, the girl flinched in surprise, keeping her head down in fear that he may somehow recognize her. Her little body shook as the large man sized her up. He just came out of nowhere, how in the hell did he do that?

"Not sure," another voice similar to the other chimed in coming in from the opposite direction of the man. A man similar to the first came in through the fog, also naked, and also looked at Jennifer. Brothers, maybe?

"Hmm…" the first brother thought as he looked her, seeing her shake like a leaf, he smirked darkly at her, "he looks nervous." On the Brightside, they thought that Jennifer wasn't a man and she sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to correct them on that. She didn't exactly want to stay and let them find that out either so she continued her walk, with just a slightly faster pace, and tried her best to ignore him.

The sound of scrapping of metal upon metal filled the air from behind Jennifer. "Oh god," she thought as she continued to pick up her pace, almost jogging down the fence line, "They're following me."

"I would like to kill him," she heard one say behind her, the machete in his hand running against the chain link fence that separated them from her.

"As would I," the other brother replied, "wouldn't be as fun seeing that he's quite puny, like a runt."

"Runts of the litter are no good."

"They must be drowned."

"Right as they pop out of the bitch."

As a doctor, you would think Jennifer wouldn't be phased by phrases like the ones those two brothers were saying to her. In her time working, she probably had been threatened by quite a few patients…but this was different. Before she had an arsenal of different things like big strong orderlies, restraints, medicines, and padded cells with tiny windows that would keep her safe from patients like that. She didn't have those now and the possibility that any of these patients in this hell hole could do terrible things to her was frightenly real. There was no doubt about it that she had to get of here and quick. Once she found that radio and called for help she could find her way out and be rid of this place for good.

She had reached the inside of the prison now, still out in the prison yard but she was close to the actually building now than she was before. Not hearing from the brothers anymore she assumed, or at least hoped, that they had lost interest and moved on to someplace else in the asylum. Moving carefully through another door that lead to a bricked off area, she quietly stopped under the frame of the door to survey the surroundings in front of her. In the far corner was a basketball court where a group of patients were playing a game of basketball…with a severed head. Oh God…

Past that, she saw a ladder that lead up to a guard tower and the main building of the prison. If she were to find a radio, surely it'd be up there. Just one problem. How was she going to get past the patients playing basketball with the body parts? More than likely she was just going to have to walk as fast as she could by them and pray that they wouldn't notice her. Not caring that she was there would work as well. If they did take notice, then she'd have to make a run for it.

Jennifer worked up her courage, kept her head down, and walked quickly toward the basketball court. Making sure not to make eye contact with anyone, she pushed through the gate into the court and went in. So far, so good. Staying at the edge of the court, she quickly walked down the side and out. They didn't even take notice of her, too busy playing their disgusting game of basketball.

"Oh thank God," she let out a sigh of relief as she climbed up the ladder and onto the top of the guard tower. Peeking into each room of the tower the only thing found were phones that were dead. No radios.

"Damn it," the woman huffed. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy. She looked to where the main building was and stared at the door to the inside. Did she dare to open it to find the radio she was looking for? She had to. Coming this far, she wasn't going to just not try. Besides, she needed to find a map again to find out how to get out of the prison building and out of the facility all together.

Slowly, she made her way to the door and into the building. Peeking inside she could see already that it was pretty chaotic. Patients were chasing each other through the halls, blood looked as if it was sprayed onto the walls with a hose. Security guards laid dead pretty much everywhere she turned. But Jennifer continued onward in hopes that she could find the radio and call for help. The woman crept through the hallway, and to her surprise there was the security room with a wall of screens showing the prison through the security cameras. Surely the radio was in there. What luck! Finally! Smiling as she ran, she made her way to the security room.

Only, to suddenly have her hopes dashed away instantly. The door to the room had been beaten down. And there in the middle of the floor and all over the desk was what remained of the short wave radio. Tears filled her eyes as she knelt down on the ground, taking pieces of the radio in her hands only to throw them in angst.

They were dead. They all were going to die. Help wasn't going to be coming soon and no one was going to save them. By the time anyone knew what was going on, everyone save for the extremely dangerous Varients were going to be dead.

With her face in her hands, she wept. She didn't care if anyone heard her crying, she wasn't going to get out alive anyway. She was tired, scared, hungry, thirsty, and she knew she wouldn't be able to outrun a patient for long if one tried to kill her again. The only thing now was to pray that her death would be a quick one.

"Jennifer?"

That voice…she knew that voice. Her head turned to where she had heard that voice coming from. Out of the shadows a silhouette of a man came forward into the light.

She sniffled, using a sleeve to wipe her nose and eyes, "Mr. Blaire?"


End file.
